


Funeral Blues

by barium



Category: Original Work
Genre: Boyfriend Simulator, Dark, Ghosts, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Romance, Suicide, Tragedy, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-02 02:40:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10207439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barium/pseuds/barium
Summary: Let aeroplanes circle moaning overheadScribbling on the sky the message'He is Dead.'





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apolliades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apolliades/gifts).
  * Inspired by [when you were here before (quiet and calm)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10257353) by [apolliades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apolliades/pseuds/apolliades). 



He could see it. Out of the windowsill of his home, across the road where the graveyard lied, there was a ring in the dirt. It caught the light of the sun, a distant shimmer in the dawn.

Noah was up early because he never slept. Sounds of his mother crying from her bedroom had kept him unable to relax, lying stiff under his blankets with his eyes wide open. Every time he closed them, he could see Him again. So he tried not to so often, or for so long.

His home was small. It lied on a large stretch of land across the way from a cemetery that had been there long before he and his mother moved in. Before moving, he was convinced there would be dozens of ghosts haunting them, but it had been two months now and there hadn’t been any signs of afterlife at all.

At some point in the night, he dragged himself from his bed to his chair, which he positioned in front of the window. He focused his eyes on the graveyard. He wanted to see something. A shadow, a flicker of light. It was Tuesday. He did not want to go to school in a few hours; the new high school with the new people and the new content. He prayed for something to happen. Anything.

He stared out of his window for hours. His mind wandered, as did his eyes. He saw the activity of squirrels scurrying up trees and across paved dirt, and early morning joggers making their rounds. His eyes felt shot, but his mind was more awake than it ever had been.

It was happenstance, that he saw the ring. When he first caught sight of it he didn’t know that it was a ring. It looked like a star.

He took it as a sign.

After squinting at it for a few moments, he stood from his chair and made his way from his room to downstairs. On his way out of the door he caught a look at himself in a hallway mirror, and cringed away. Dark hair, with dark eyes, and dark circles. He didn’t like darkness, even though he probably should. His favorite color was yellow.

It didn’t take him long to reach the cemetery. Tombstones stood still around him in neat rows, each at different heights and shapes. Some were proper gravestones, some were arched, some were crosses. Some were simply plaques on the earth. Further into the graveyard, there were stone buildings. Noah thought he would be okay with just a plaque.

Scratching at his eyes, he looked around for the shimmer. It was much harder to find up close. It lied in front of a tombstone; Noah didn’t look at what it said. He now realized the shimmer was a ring, meant as a gift for the dead. Around him some memorials had flowers at their helms. He knelt in the dirt to read the name on the stone with the ring. It was faded, and not very well done. But it wasn’t a plaque.

It read: _Elias Montgomery, 1986-2007_. That was all.

Twenty-one years old, then. Noah was dimly aware that that was a young age to die, and he should spend a few moments being sad about it, but he didn’t. He reached for the ring.

“What are you doing?”

Noah jumped out of his skin at the noise, turning, his heart in his throat. Beside him a guy was standing, looking angry. A guy not much older than he was, with his fists clenched. Something was off about him, but Noah couldn’t tell what. He stood hastily. “Sorry, sorry.”

The guy’s expression changed just barely, looking almost confused, before hardening again. “Don’t touch that.”

“Why not?” Noah asked, perhaps inappropriately. “Who are you?”

The guy scowled at him. “Elias.”

Noah was silent. He looked from the guy to the tombstone, where the name was printed messily, hastily. He said, dumbly, “You’re dead.”

“Am I then,” the guy—Elias—deadpanned. He knelt at his own stone, at his ring.

Noah stared. He saw it now: the way he was just that little bit transparent, just enough to look funny in the light. The edges of him were blurry in a way that was hard to describe. It wasn’t so difficult to mistake him for a person at first glance. It was when you looked too hard, that you noticed.

Elias glared up at him. “Leave.”

“No, thank you.” Noah’s tired mind was ecstatic. He had found one. He sat in front of Elias. “I’m Noah.”

“I don’t care.”

“I just moved here,” Noah told him. “From Montana. I don’t know who you are, I’ve never heard of you.”

“Good.”

“Will you tell me?” Noah asked.

“No.”

Noah was not deterred. He reached for the ring again.

“Don’t touch it,” Elias hissed. He moved his hand to stop Noah, but it phased through him. The both of them pulled their hands back; Elias to his chest, quickly, like he’d been burned, and Noah slowly, in awe. It had felt cold. He wiggled his fingers as the warmth of the growing day weaved back into his bones.

He asked, “Is this your ring?”

Elias was hesitant to answer, but he seemed to realize that Noah wasn’t leaving. “Yes. I was wearing it.”

“When you died,” Noah nodded, like all of this made sense. “How did you die?”

Elias’ voice wasn’t hard anymore, just detached. “I don’t know.”

“Well, where did you die?” Noah felt high. “I can go there and try to find out. Let’s go together. I have school today, but I can skip, it’s no big deal. I’ll find out how for you.”

He deflated a little when Elias’ turned harsh again. “I don’t want to know how. Will you fucking leave?” He stood. “What you’re doing here is disturbing the dead. You look like a mess. Go to school today.”

“You’re not my father,” Noah said angrily, standing too. “And I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I just want to help.” Elias didn’t say anything. Noah continued, “I haven’t slept. I was looking for someone. And I found you.”

“Are you suggesting fate?” Elias raised an eyebrow.

“I’m suggesting you let me wear your ring.”

Noah watched Elias struggle with himself. He could tell that Elias did not really want to stay here. Noah assumed that he’d been here since he died, tied to the area by the gold band in the dirt. Noah wanted to give him the chance to wander. Mostly, Noah wanted a friend.

Elias gestured to the ring with a sigh. “I guess.”

Noah didn’t grin in excitement or spout thanks. He picked the dirty ring up from the ground and slid it onto his right hand’s finger. He looked up to see Elias watching him, expressionless. Noah tried to smile, now. He splayed his fingers. “How do I look?”

Elias’ voice was strained. “I can feel your heart.”

Noah began walking. “Come on, then.”

 

 

 

“What are you expecting to find?” Elias asked him. He had seemed surprised when he stepped out of the cemetery and nothing had happened to him. He kept glancing back at it as they walked further away.

Noah shrugged. He thought of his mom, going to wake him up in the morning for school and finding an empty bed. He couldn’t bring himself to feel bad. As a sort of apology, he avoided the cracks in the sidewalk as they strolled. It was early yet, and not many people were out. Noah had learned that no one else could see Elias, so he spoke to him in low tones. It didn’t seem to matter; no one was noticing him anyway. “I don’t know. We’re going to where you died. Do you know where that is?”

Elias nodded almost imperceptibly. “My house.”

“How come you only remember some things about your death?” Noah asked him. “Do you remember who killed you?”

Elias shook his head. “No.”

Noah put his hands in his pockets. “What am I going to do if there are people still there?”

“My family won’t be there,” Elias said. “They left three months after I died. As soon as they could after the funeral. My parents and brother.”

“Maybe your brother killed you.”

Elias scoffed. “He was three.” A few moments of quiet passed. “He’ll be twelve, now.”

“Maybe he misses you,” Noah said.

“I doubt it.”

Noah looked at his watch. He wore a watch whenever he left his house because he felt like it made him look more prepared to other people, and he almost always wanted to know the time. It was 7:34. “I wonder when I’ll crash.”

“Don’t,” Elias said. “I have no way to carry you back if you do.”

“I’ll let you know.”

Elias led him to a house that was an hour’s walk away, and by the end of it Noah was regretting not stealing his mother’s car, even though that would probably have prompted her to call the police. The house was unbelievably large, and sprawling. Ancient. It looked appropriate for a ghost’s house. It sat at the edge of a dead-end road with few neighbors, looking intimidating. Noah said, “You’re kidding me.”

“No.”

“Your family was only four people, Elias.”

“My parents were both lawyers.”

“God.” Noah rubbed at his eyes with his palms, kneading the exhaustion away. “Okay let’s go in.”

The door was locked. Elias led him to a window that was always loose, and Noah easily popped the screen out and climbed in. The window was in the kitchen, and he had to hop over the sink counter to the floor.

He looked around. The home was of course completely empty, save for rat shit and overgrown plants. Noah checked all of the cabinets, and the faucets. There was no water.

Elias seemed to simply float behind him. Noah asked him, “Are you going to help?”

“I don’t want to find anything.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t mind being here,” Elias said. Noah realized he meant _here_ , as in the world, rather than an afterlife. “Where am I going to go? I’ve seen no evidence of a Heaven, or Hell. Just darkness, and then this.”

“Doesn’t it hurt to not know?” Noah said. “To not have someone to blame, for cutting your life short?”

Elias seemed uncomfortable. “What if it was me?”

“Then it was you,” Noah told him. “You would know. There would be closure.” He paused. “Do you think you killed yourself?”

Elias didn’t answer for a few moments. In so long that Noah turned to him expectantly after a while. “Well?”

“I—hope I didn’t,” he said. “I don’t like the idea. No life is that bad.”

Noah laughed.

“Mine wasn’t, anyway.”

“How nice for you.” Noah leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “If you don’t want to know then I don’t know what we’re doing here.”

“Come on,” Elias said. “Let’s go to my room, then.”

Noah followed him.

 

 

 

Elias’ room was large, and had a wooden floor and a large window, with a window-bed. Noah frowned at it, thinking of his chair.

Elias gestured to the entire room. “It happened here.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t your mom?” Noah asked. “Or your dad?” His own father would surely try to kill him again, if he knew where he was.

Elias nodded. “I think so. I’m trying to remember.” He stepped into the center of the room. The light casting in through the window almost made him disappear. Noah fiddled with the ring on his finger, and Elias’ eyes went to it almost subconsciously.

Noah held his hand up. “Did it have anything to do with this?”

“No,” Elias said. “I think I was just wearing it. It sucks, because I didn’t like it all that much. I just happened to be wearing it when I died. And now I’m eternally attached to it, in weird ways that I don’t like.”

“Like how?” Noah asked.

“Only one other person touched it before today,” Elias said, stepping closer to Noah. “My mother, to bring it to my grave. She bought it for me, I think, years before. She cried over it.” He moved like he wanted to take Noah's hand and examine it. Noah moved like he was. “And then nothing, for ten years. And then, you.”

“What about me?” Noah didn’t understand what he was trying to say at all.

“Nothing,” Elias sighed. “My mother didn’t even wear it, only held it. It just feels—intimate.”

Noah felt his face grow warm. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Elias stepped back. “That’s all.”

Noah watched Elias go to his window and look out from it. He suddenly wanted nothing more than the sensation of touch from him. He said, “Maybe it’s not impossible.”

“What isn’t?”

“To touch.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Noah dropped his hands to his sides. “Because the world is already so unfair to me.”

Elias smiled at him for the first time he had seen, and it was light.

“Come here.”

The two of them positioned themselves in front of each other on the floor with their legs crossed, and knees close. “Hold out your hand,” Noah instructed.

Elias did. “This isn’t going to work. Do you think I haven’t tried to touch things in the ten years since I’ve been dead?”

Noah shushed him. He made as if to cup Elias’ hands in his. “Want it.”

“You think I didn’t _want_ to?”

“Just do it, Elias.”

Elias sighed. The both of them stared at their hands together, nothing happening between them.

“Close your eyes,” Noah said. “Maybe it’ll help.”

Elias rolled them first, but he did. He leaned his head back with his eyes closed, wanting.

“You’re cold,” Noah began talking. “To the touch. Your hair is soft. You can feel the warmth of the sun through the window’s light. Can you feel it?”

“No.”

Noah dropped his hands. “You’re not trying hard enough.”

Elias opened his eyes. “I’m trying as hard as I can.”

“Do you know why I want to touch you?” Noah asked.

“Why?”

Noah brought a hand up, as if to touch Elias’ cheek, and then his lips. “I want to kiss you.”

He watched Elias freeze, and felt his heart race in his chest, knowing Elias could hear it, feel it. He pulled his hand back. “I’m sorry.”

Elias looked down at his own hands, then held them out once more. “Let’s try again.”

Noah felt hope blossom in his chest. He restated for him to close his eyes and waited intently for his hands to form some kind of solidity. Every second was painfully long as they waited, not wanting to give up again. And then—coldness.

Immediately upon feeling something, Noah's hands tightened around Elias’ fingers, clinging to him. He tried to speak, and found he couldn’t.

Elias could. He said, “Don’t let go.”

Noah shook his head rapidly. “I won’t.” His hands moved from Elias’ fingers to his palms. Noah moved his hands slowly, so slowly, up Elias’ wrist, to his arm. It felt like the skin was forming along the way. Elias’ felt normal—just incredibly, incredibly cold.

Noah's hands found their way to Elias’ shoulders. Elias was staring at him in awe, like he was performing some sort of magic. Noah touched his neck, then his cheek. His lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Noah asked him, quietly, so that the walls could not hear.

Elias nodded. “Please.”

Noah leaned forward, and their lips met.

This was their beginning.

 

 

 

Time passed.

Noah had crashed there, in Elias’ room, on the wooden floor. He slept until a cold touch to his face woke him up. And he awakened, smiling.

Life was much better with a companion. Elias would accompany Noah to school, where no one would speak to him. And he would walk Noah home on the days that his mother was too distracted to pick him up. Time together spent in Noah's bedroom were the most surreal.

Elias’ touch was gentle, and hesitant, contrasting his prickly exterior. His stubbornness would ebb away in the silence of Noah's room, replaced by an earnest desire to please. He touched Noah like Noah might leave him, if he didn’t—like Noah might walk right back to the graveyard and place the ring back in the dirt. He didn’t seem to realize that Noah was by the day becoming irreversibly attached to him.

Elias taught Noah how to love, and Noah taught Elias how to live.

Noah made sure to take Elias with him whenever he went into town. He kept his distance from his mother and chose instead to be out of the house as much as possible. He spent most of his time downtown, or in Elias’ house. His mom was on the phone more often than not, talking to someone Noah didn’t think to care about. Until he happened to overhear a familiar voice from the living room, and his entire body went cold with dread.

“You can’t be here,” his mother hissed urgently. “He’ll see—”

“Let him,” He said. “You and me, Theresa, we’re something special. If Noah keeps trying to keep us apart by telling lies, then it’s either your job to discipline him, or mine.”

Noah creeped down the staircase to hear better, crouched against the wall. His mom said, “There’s a—there’s a restraining order. If he finds you I’ll have to call the police, baby.”

“What’s going on?” Elias appeared behind Noah, making him jump. “Noah?”

Noah's voice was barely a whisper. “It’s my dad.” It was dawning on him that this was who his mom was on the phone with all this time. He thought, _they must be getting together again_. He thought, _I’d rather die_.

He turned his attention back to his parents. His dad had said something, but he missed it.

“I love you too, you know I do,” his mom said. “Come back tomorrow. He leaves in the evenings. Come back tomorrow.”

“That’s too long without you,” He said. “I want to see him anyway. I need to talk to him.”

He heard a scuffle, like his mom moved to block the way. “He can’t see you.”

“I’ve done nothing to him that he didn’t deserve, Theresa.”

It was a long time before either of them spoke. Then, his mother’s voice, low and steady: “I know.”

Something in Noah dropped. He allowed himself to glance out at them, his heart beginning to pound. What hope he had left disappeared when he saw them: embracing, kissing. For a moment, he couldn’t move. He felt Elias’ icy hand on his arm, pulling him, and then his voice, filled with concern: “Noah?”

Noah hadn’t told Elias anything about his dad, or what he did to him. He didn’t tell Elias anything about why he and his mother moved to this town so far from home. He didn’t want to. He wanted to forget. Why was He here? Why was He _here_?

Wordless, thoughtless, Noah let his feet fly up the stairs, his steps eerily silent. He opened the door to his mother’s scattered room, and went for under her mattress.

“What are you doing, Noah?” Elias asked. It was a room he’d never been in before; he was looking around.

Noah pulled out his mother’s pistol.

“Oh, Noah.”

Noah raced back to his bedroom, and locked the door behind him. His eyes were stinging.

“Noah, no.”

He whirled to him. “She never believed me.”

Elias was looking at him very seriously. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. I could tell.” Noah checked the barrel for bullets. There were twelve. Plenty. “Even if she did, it’s pointless now. She loves him. She’ll never make him leave us alone. I knew this. I’m so—stupid.”

Elias stepped closer to him. “Don’t do this,” he begged. “Please. Think about school, think about—”

“About what?” Noah looked up at him, tears in his eyes now. “My future? I’ll tell you what I see.” He held the gun to his head and enjoyed the look in Elias’ eyes, brimmed with complicated feelings of both despair and hope. “I see you. There’s only you.”

Elias’ voice, sincere and unconvincing: “It’s not worth it.”

Noah closed his eyes. “There was always only you.”

The shot was loud.

 

 

 

Noah opened his eyes. He could see it. Out of the windowsill of his home, across the road where the graveyard lied.

There was a ring in the dirt.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://barium.tumblr.com/)


End file.
